Free to Be
by house3er4ev
Summary: All her life, Edith had chosen partners unavailable to her. Perhaps now was the chance to choose herself.
1. Chapter 1

For as much as Edith criticized and judged Mary, the probability that she would cause a scandal was far greater than her sister.

Caught between trying to please her parents and learning who she really was as a person, Edith vacillated between strict conformity to her parents ideals and heinous acts of rebellion. Her need for attention ultimately resulted in consistently picking romantic partners unavailable to her.

The first of course was Cousin Patrick, who was destined to become Mary's husband. As much as she had claimed to love Cousin Patrick, and did love Cousin Patrick, she later realized she was not _in love _with Cousin Patrick. She just couldn't understand how carelessly Mary was willing to forget him. For Edith, Mary's callousness served as a symbol of her sister's inability to understand the possibility of power that Patrick represented, never mind the clear preference her parents held for both Patrick and Mary over Edith.

Before, during and for many years after the war, a woman of their station could only hope to marry well and help their Lord husband maintain an estate, just as their mother had done before them and Nanny had done before her. While marriage was confining in its own right, having a man with a title and land gave a woman freedom. And Mary was so close to that but didn't care that she had lost it, while it was presumed Edith would never have the opportunity, and wanted it desperately. Poor Edith indeed.

Edith's sexual awakening had come with the farmer, John Drake. She was fortunate that Mrs. Drake had cut their ties before anything could progress further. Edith has been incredibly selfish and foolish to have entertained Mr. Drakes advances. Not only was he unsuitable for his profession and lot in life, but also because he was married. Moreover, before she had gotten carried away in the outright flirtation and attention he was paying her, she had been in the process of developing a friendship of sorts with Mrs. Drake. She didn't understand at the time, but as the daughter of Lord Grantham, she had had the opportunity to improve the image of the family. Instead, had Mrs. Drake truly told anyone what she saw, she could have embroiled the family in scandal once again.

Edith ignored the lack of morality in her actions at the time. No, the first time Edith started to consider this notion of 'bad' was the first time Lavinia Swire kissed her.

Edith had found herself entertaining Lavinia one afternoon when Mary had stolen Matthew away, which was all too often. It was after seeing Mary and Matthew together one day that Lavinia had took the confort Edith offered and made it more. Edith had placed her hand across Lavinia's arm, her thumb rubbing the place where it sat. Edith hadn't realized just how close they were and Lavinia had turned her head just enough that their lips had touched in a manner that was entirely inappropriate. But Edith didn't pull away. She probably should have, but she didn't. In fact, she had only just grasped what was happening, when Lavinia pulled away with a blush and ran.

At first, Edith has chalked it down to Lavinia's schooling; she had attended boarding school and who knew what was acceptable there. Furthermore, late at night, when Edith was alone in her room, her thoughts constantly drifted to the softness of Lavinia lips as her fingers drifted across her own mouth.

A week later, when Lavinia had tried to apologize, Edith brushed it off. She liked Lavinia. Like her, Lavinia had been overlooked; she too had become second place to perfect Mary. Finally, Edith had someone who understood. It seemed inevitable that they would drift together.

Perhaps that was why next time the two were alone and tension so thick it could be cut with a knife developed, it was Edith who pressed her lips to Lavinia's. Once again, Mary had cut into Lavinia's relationship with Matthew, pushing his wheel chair and drawing his attention.

Edith could feel Lavinia's frustration viscerally. So when the opportunity presented to relieve some of that frustration, she took a chance.

This time, the kiss was not brief. Instead, both women were left gasping with bruised, swollen lips.

It just devolved from there. Passionate kisses on afternoon walks quickly became passionate lovemaking in the dark recesses of the night.

No one knew for sure what was happening between the two. In fact, most were only two pleased that the two women were getting along if they bothered to pay attention at all. Mary only once questioned Edith's need to constantly bore poor polite Lavinia once, before realizing that keeping Lavinia distracted could only work in her favor. The only one who had an inkling of what was happening was Anna, for it's rather difficult to hide bruised necks and overly ruffled sheets from one's maid. But she never questioned anything aloud, only looked at Edith with eyes that were both pitying and slightly disgusted.

Out of panicky guilt and slight self-hatred over her affair with Lavinia, Edith had thrown herself once again at Sir Anthony after he returned from the war. Anthony had always been kinder than most to her, the sole person to never place her second to Mary. For once, she didn't feel like a consolation prize. When Anthony looked at her, he saw her clearly and as she truly was. She didn't know exactly who that was, but he did. Edith had been so desperate not only to be understood, but for an escape. If anything, Anthony was to her ticket out.

Too bad she couldn't recognize the type of person he truly was: a coward. Her relationship with Anthony finally did put her at the center of a scandal. Not only had she tried to trap a much older man, but she had failed spectacularly. Left at the altar and publicly humiliated. She couldn't even do this right.

Surprisingly, writing had brought almost as good a release as Lavinia had. Her work and those moments with Lavinia were the closest Edith had ever felt to being real. In this sense, her failed engagement to Anthony had succeeded.

Edith had been through enough that she would be left to her own devices. That was a power in itself.

To come to find out that people actually cared what Edith, the overlooked middle daughter of a country lord, had to say brought about a heady feeling. Finally, Edith was removing the layers she had built up to protect herself and was discovering who she was.

So when Michael Gregson began flirting with her and demanding her attention, Edith truly was surprised. For once in her life, she wasn't looking to a romantic partner to fill the loneliness in her life. She was starting to find contentment in being alone when Michael went and ruined all her progress.

She had tried resist him, truly, but when his commitment and loyalty had reached heights that no other person had, Edith could resist no longer. To Edith, moving to Germany, the most hated race in the world, just so he could be with her, was the most grand gesture of loyalty a person could make. Never mind the fact that it was his betrayal of his wife that caused Michael to have to make this gesture in the first place.

Now here we are. Edith is once again alone and what's worst: she's pregnant. She is closer to scandal than she has ever been. Unlike her previous choices, there's no hiding this. All of those times she had skirted the line of morality had finally caught up with her.

It was fortunate then that Granny and Aunt Rosamond had taken pity on her and had proposed their idea of going to Switzerland as it would delay the inevitable.

Edith would go to Bern with Rosamund and hide the truth from her family for as long as she could. But as she agreed to the plan, Edith was scheming.

Traveling abroad was the sensible way to begin, but she could never give up her wanted child from the man she loved. Rosamond and Granny just didn't know that yet. They would only find out months later as Edith laid out the rest of her plan. Rather than leave her child in Switzerland while she returned to her spinster life in England, Edith had resolved to keep the child and raise him or her herself in Europe. She had heard of the growing writers movement in Paris and hoped to check it out on the first leg of their trip. Once the child was born, she could return there and make a life for herself as a writer, in the company of other writers, who seemed much more progressive than those in England. Rosamund would make the excuses for her and while she would keep in touch with Mama and Granny, she doubted they would ever visit, nor she them. Only once her child was old enough would she even consider returning to England with some grand story of a poor friend from abroad who had died and left her their only child, her ward. Hopefully, by then enough time would pass that people would forget about Michael Gregson and his relationship to Lady Edith Crawley. She would make her own income off of a few book deals written under a pseudonym and would finally be free to be the person she wanted.


	2. Chapter 2

Of course, it would not be so easy as that.

The first leg of the journey involved two weeks in Paris. This was spent rather productively for Edith. In between bouts of morning sickness and fatigue, Edith was not quite yet noticeably pregnant, and so was able to spend much time exploring. It took a few days find the right spots to engage with intellectuals as she wasn't going to use any acquaintances she had in the area to make introductions. That would defeat the point of coming to Europe all together.

Luckily, she stumbled across a quaint bookshop in the 6th arrondissement run by an American four days after their arrival their. She and the proprietor, Sylvia, quickly became fast friends once the language barrier disappeared and their mutual love of literature was expanded upon.

While Edith was unable to spend long hours out at night, what with being pregnant and Aunt Rosamund watching her every move, afternoons were spent either at the book shop helping Sylvia or at cafes with many of Sylvia's friends.

Perhaps the most lucrative event had been a salon that Sylvia's friend Gertrude had held. This was the one evening that Aunt Rosamund has left Edith to her own devices. Here, Edith was introduced to a whole way of life that she knew existed, but had never previously considered for herself. She was introduced to writers, painters, photographers, intellectuals of all kinds with all sorts of interesting backgrounds. Not just Parisians, but Americans, Germans, Spaniards, people from all across the world.

In London, Edith had once gone to a pale imitation of this with Michael, but it didn't compare. There she was known as stuffy Lady Edith and social rules had to be maintained and enforced. Here, social rules were not only disregarded, in many ways they were thrown out the window.

No one cared who you were so long as you had something of value to say.

During this time, Edith also began planning and plotting out her first book. There was an old adage that you should write what you knew and that's exactly what Edith decided to do. There were two things Edith knew well: scandal and power, or lack thereof. So she decided her first book would be about the Titanic and how losing the heir to a prominent house had affected a family and what would happen if the heir supposedly came back during the war. But rather than taking the long view, it was mostly focused on the return of the supposed heir and his sinister motivations.

She discussed the plot with Sylvia, who looked forward to reading the final product.

When it was time for her and Rosamund to leave, Edith was saddened to have to go. Part of her considered begging Rosamund to stay, but she knew that would never work. Not only would Rosamund disapprove of the kind of company she kept, it would force Edith to expose her plan too quickly.

So, with the promise to write and some connections with a few publishers that she knew she'd be contacting in the future, Rosamund and Edith left for Bern.

The months in Bern went slowly and quickly all at once. It was quite different than Paris, with a much slower pace of life, but quite beautiful in its own right.

They stayed in a more secluded area of the city, right off of the Aare River. The house, while not nearly as grand as Downtown Abbey, not Rosamund's residence in London, was comfortable and clean. Edith's room overlooked a garden with a gazebo and the river.

After breakfast, Edith started her day with a long walk along the river, ruminating in her characters and planning out her book. Afternoons were spent on her balcony, furiously putting pen to paper.

Evenings were spent on the veranda with Aunt Rosamund. Despite the unfortunate nature of the reasoning for this trip, Rosamund had come to love the time spent with Edith. The conversations were always lively and interesting. Edith held firm convictions and defended them fiercely with arguments well articulated and thought out. Rosamund didn't always agree with her, but she appreciated the intellectual sparring and the battle of wits.

It was clear that the time away from Downton had done Edith well. Rosamund had never seen her so happy.

While she had not always been close to Edith, she had come to see her less as a niece and more as a surrogate daughter.

That's why, when Edith finally told her that she wasn't returning to England with her, after months of Rosamund trying to find a couple who would take the baby, Rosamund felt betrayed.

"You've used me!" She accused, angrily.

"I've not!" responded Edith. "You offered your help and I took it."

"Clearly, I agreed to help you under false pretenses."

For weeks, Edith and Rosamund fought over this. Their evenings turned from the highlight of Rosamund's day to the point of most anxiety.

"Oh Aunt Rosamund, please don't be so furious with me," begged Edith, three weeks after her grand revelation. "I am truly thankful for all you've done for me. But I can't bare to part with this child. And if I go back to Downton, that's what will have to happen. And I'll be miserable."

Rosamund could see the truth in her words. Edith had taken to pregnancy better than anyone she had ever seen, including Mary. While it was true women flowed when with child, Edith shined.

"And how are you going to be able to take care of yourself? Do you expect me to stay here with you indeterminately? I don't think Mama's money would stretch that far, nor mine." Oh Mama, she would not be best pleased with this idea. In fact, Violet would be even less pleased than Rosamund was herself. It was entirely possible that Violet would come to the continent and drag Edith back by her ear.

Edith smiles in relief. "I've got it all worked out." She explained her plan and the connections she'd already begun to use. She'd already received an advance on her novel from a publishing company in Paris the produced both English and French pieces of literature. They'd been pleased with her progress thus far and had agreed to publish the novel under an assumed named.

Rosamund could tell the plan had merit. If anything, Edith had proved herself resilient, able to get back on her feet from any situation. This seemed to prove no different.

But there was one last obstacle: "And what shall I tell your parents exactly? Surely you'll have to tell them the truth now?"

"I'll think of something. No, it's for the better if we let this drift off as opposed to a clean break. The had part was getting them to agree to me leaving in the first place. Putting them off shouldn't prove to difficult," Edith added with only slight bitterness.

Once again, Rosamund felt Edith was giving Robert and Cora very little credit. She knew how much they loved their daughters, especially now that Sybil had died.

"I don't like lying," she reminded Edith.

"You won't have to," responded Edith, an idea quickly gathering in her head. "Just tell then I'll be staying a few extra weeks with some friends I made in Paris, but you were eager to get home. That'll essentially be the truth, at least to begin with. I'll right a letter to corroborate."

"Very well," sighed Rosamund. "Like I told you, it's your life."


	3. Chapter 3

Hugo M. Crawley came screaming into the world in the wee hours of the morning one late Spring day. As easy as the pregnancy had been, the delivery itself was long and scary. After all, neither woman truly knew what they were doing. Rosamund's experience was limited to the miscarriages she had had while newlywed many years ago. After two, she and Marmaduke had given up the dream of being parents. Although both of Edith's sisters had given birth, she had never been in the room and poor Sybil had died a few hours after giving birth due to preeclampsia. So to say the two women were scared during the 18 hour long labor was an understatement.

But all was well a month later as the two left Bern. Edith returned to Paris, having found an apartment through one of Sylvia's connections. 24 year old Adriana Devereaux was an aspiring fashion designer currently working at the Galleries Lafayette. She'd recently moved to Paris from Lyon and was looking for another woman to take up the second bedroom in her flat as her last roommate had recently gotten married. Adriana was charming, polite and most of all, discreet. She had no problem with Edith's motherhood and didn't ask any questions.

Although stressed as any new mother would be, Edith was thankful for the support of her new roommate, who took to Hugo as if her were her own and was simply happy to finally be making a life free of her family's expectations.

Rosamund wasn't so lucky. As Carson's low tenor announced her to the occupants of the drawing room, her nerves were wracking. She counted her stars that Mamma wasn't there and that she had some relief for a few hours.

"Ah, hail the prodigal traveler, " greeted her brother jovially as she kissed her brother on his cheek.

"How lovely to have you back," commented Cora from the couch. "Did Edith go straight up?" she asked, looking around for her middle child.

"Umm no," responded Rosamund slowly. "Edith is still in Paris."

"I'm sorry, what!" exclaimed Robert, exchanging a glance with his incredulous wife.

"Yes, I was quite eager to return home, but Edith made many friends on her trip and decided to extend her stay," explained Rosamund calmly enough. After all, none of that was a lie. "I come bearing a letter for you both" which she handed over to Cora to see.

"You mean to tell me you left our daughter unchaperoned in a strange country," Roberts face started to redden as Cora tore into the letter, here eyes moving swiftly across the page.

"Now, now Robert, while this is highly unusual, Edith certainly isn't a young girl anymore who needs to be watched. And it says here that she's been meeting with a few publishers out there to expand her written efforts. How wonderful!" Explained Cora.

"Yes, she did quite well while we were in Berne, " Rosamund latched onto Cora's enthusiasm. "She continued sending in articles for the Sketch and even sent in a few to a few French publications. She actually started writing a book!"

"Who's writing a book?" Asked Mary, entering the room. "Surely not Edith."

Mary crossed the room to kiss her aunt on the cheek. "Welcome back!"

"Don't be so mean, Mary, your sister's much happier now and is flourishing with her writing," admonished Rosamund.

"Where is she anyway?" demanded Mary.

"Your sister will be remaining in Paris for a few more weeks," Cora explained, glancing back at the letter in puzzlement.

"Well as long she's back for Rose's coming out party," sighed Robert in acceptance. "Otherwise Rose will be quite cross."

Mary simply hummed as she gathered her tea.

"Will Mamma be here for dinner?" asked Rosamund, eager to change the subject.

"Yes, Granny just telephoned to say she'd be coming up soon," replied Mary, suturing in the couch next to Cora.

"Wonderful," replies Rosamund, hoping no one would notice the light sarcasm in her voice. By the glances traded between Mary and Cora, they had.

A few hours later, Rosamund should have known any hopes of dodging her mother would be dashed. Violet was like a dog with a bone and as soon as she had heard that Edith wasn't there, her stare bore into Rosamund's ducking head.

As the women crossed over to the drawing room, Violet's hand on Rosamund's arm held her back.

"Tomorrow, you will come for tea and you will tell me exactly what is going on," demanded Violet in a tone that allowed no room for arguing. Then she quite swiftly continued on before Rosamund had a chance to reply.

"Yes, mother," sighed Rosamund to herself.

That evening, in the privacy of her room, a niggling feeling that escaped articulation ate at Cora. She had known before Edith left that something wasn't quite right. Her daughter had been upset by the loss of Mr. Gregson for certain, but there was something more to it. Once again, as had happened many times over the months her middle child had been absent, she thought back to that day in the drawing room when Edith tearfully asked if she was bad, as if bracing for the answer she knew would come. Clearly, there was much more lying beneath the surface than Cora had been aware of.

"Do you think Edith will be alright?" she asked Robert as he came in.

"I don't what Rosamund was thinking, leaving her like that," exclaimed Robert, shaking his head. "What was the point of Edith going with Rosamund at all if she was just going to abandon her!" He pulled up the sheets on the bed and grabbed his glasses, turning to his book on the night stand.

"She went because clearly Edith had been unhappy and Rosamund tried to resolve it," Cora replied, with a slight tone of resentment that one could only pick up after decades of marriage. Robert looked at her for the first time since entering the room. "Do you think Edith will be alright?" she demanded more forcefully.

"Oh darling, don't fret! Of course Edith will be alright. Just as you said, Edith isn't like the others. In many ways, she's become much more independent. And despite her flaws, Rosamund wouldn't just leave her there if she didn't think she'd be alright."

Feeling the matter settled, Robert once and for all turned to his book, while Cora got into bed. She resolved to pay closer attention to Edith's letters and to get to the bottom of the matter when Edith returned in a few weeks.


	4. Chapter 4

Summer 1923

"Your ladyship," called Carson as she walked in the door to the London house a few weeks later. "Mrs. Levinson's arrived and is in the drawing room with his lordship."

"What?!" exclaimed Cora, starting to rush into the room.

"And," Carson's voice interrupted before she could get too far, "another letter from Lady Edith."

Cora took the letter from him, her brow furrowing. "She must have sent this before she left Paris and it's only now getting here."

Carson's expression gave nothing away as he demurely replied, " Yes, ma'am."

"Mother! I'm so sorry! I thought you said you'd be here after five!"

"Well we just got in early, I didn't think I had to make an appointment," Martha replied as Cora bent down to kiss her on the cheek.

"I had a last fitting and - hello Harold," Cora said, turning to her brother to greet him and kiss him in the cheek.

"Where's Edith?" She asked looking around the room. "She was supposed to get in already."

"Well she hasn't," replied Robert, dolefully.

"Yes, Robert was telling us about Edith's grand adventure. Harold and I will be heading to Europe once this is done. Madrid, Rome, Paris and we'll enjoy ourselves," Mrs. Levinson added that last part pointedly to her son.

"I hope so," Harold said to his mother. "Although somehow I doubt it."

"Perhaps, Edith can give some suggestions when she arrives."

"Yes, actually Carson handed me a letter from her as I came in through the door. I assume it's from before she left, but let me just check."

The others chatted a bit about Harold's desire to escape the Teapot Dome business as Cora opened the letter. Her brow furrowed and her jaw clenched as she read.

"Darling, what's wrong?" Asked Robert.

"She's not coming."

"What do you mean she's not coming?!" Cora handed Robert the letter, which he scanned quickly.

"Edith's not coming?" Asked Mrs. Levinson. "You'd think she'd arrive home in time to see her grandmama who came all the way across the Atlantic."

"Yes, well" Cora responded at a loss for words.

Violet remained unaware of her granddaughter's absence until she herself arrived with Cousin Isobel. That evening at the reception, Robert filled her in, but of course she was not surprised.

The conversation with Rosamund a few weeks prior had been a tense one. Violet felt herself at a crossroads. Normally she wouldn't hesitate to expose Edith as punishment for her disobedience, but if Rosamund was to be believed, Edith was actually happy and that mattered a great deal to Violet. However, Edith's happiness didn't stop her from sending her granddaughter a strongly worded letter. But all she got in return was a copy of Edith's new book and a picture of her second great great grandson.

She had to admit, the child was adorable and Edith chose well with the name. The book wasn't so terrible either and it seemed to be doing well in the international markets, if Edith was to be believed. In fact, Isobel was reading a copy on the train from Yorkshire. For once, Violet didn't mind being ignored. And in any case, her attention was diverted by Lord Merton and Isobel, Rose and of course, the gauche Americans.

"Cora is quite upset," continued Robert. "I don't know what's gotten into Edith. She's never behaved like this before."

"You said the Americans were heading to Europe after their visit? To Paris did you say?" asked Violet, absently looking over to where Cora's brother was attempting to introduce himself to the Prince of Wales.

"Yes," responded Robert, rather confused by the abrupt change in topic, but also recognizing his mother's thoughtful tone.

"Perhaps, they should pay Edith a visit," suggested Violet. While this could expose Edith's secret, Violet rather felt that it would be necessary to keep the family in tact. It was time to force Edith's hand.

Normally, she'd hate to ask anything of Martha Levinson, but Violet never backer down from the difficult decisions. The opportunity presented itself after the ball.

"Off to bed are we?" asked Martha. "Well that's very sensible. A woman your age needs her rest."

"You need a rescuer if you're taken in by the boobie Asgarth."

"Violet, forgive me and I don't mean to be offensive, but are you always this stuck up?"

"Do tell me, do tell me, is the new Lady Asgarth all set to hold London in thrall with tales about how the west was won?"

"Well actually, I turned him down."

"Oh? You surprise me!"

"I'm sure. You see I have no wish to be a great lady.

"No. A decision that must be reinforced whenever you look in the glass," Violet responded scathingly.

"Violet," called Martha. "I don't mind looking in the mirror as long as a woman who's not afraid of the future is looking back. My world is coming nearer and your world, it's slipping further and further away." Martha turned to leave, wishing Violet a firm goodnight.

"Martha," called Violet, forcing her adversary to turn back. When she had her full attention, she said "You're right."

"I'm sorry?" Asked Martha, as if she didn't hear her correctly.

Violet grit her teeth. "You're right and that's why I wanted to ask you something."

Martha's head tilted as she looked at Violet, taking in the determined air. "Robert informed that you are heading to Paris next and I wanted to ask..." she trailed off working up the nerve. "Well I was hoping you'd check in on Edith."

"Edith?" Asked Martha. "I was going to write her when we got there, but from what Cora and Rosamund tell me, she seems to be doing alright." Martha's brow furrowed in a way that was eerily similar to her daughter.

"Yes, well Cora doesn't know everything and Rosamund's doing her best to protect Edith."

"What do you mean 'protect Edith?'"

Violet looked around the hall, before beckoning Mrs. Levinson inside. "Come, let's not discuss such things so out in the open."

She hoped Mrs. Levinson was as modern as she proclaimed to be.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: A long one for you. Some inspiration drawn from the film Midnight in Paris and I realized I forgot to add a disclaimer last chapter, as there was a bit of dialogue taken directly from the Christmas Special of the fourth season. Hope you enjoy this chapter. **

Although some part of Edith had expected someone to come after her, a note from her American grandmother inviting her for lunch was quite the surprise, but a welcome one, all things considered. Well, it was better than Papa.

"Grandmama," she greeted as she met her mother's mother and brother in the lobby of the Ritz. "How lovely to see you! And you must be Uncle Harold. How strange we've never met before," she lamented.

"Well I'm happy to know you now," he responded kindly.

"You're looking well," observed Martha shrewdly. "Your mother said that you were doing alright, but I couldn't trust her word. After all, she hasn't seen you in almost a year." There was an edge in her voice that told Edith that this visit wouldn't be completely pleasant. "Unfortunately, Harold made some plans with a couple we met on the boat over, so it'll just have to be the two of us."

"Yes, there were a surprising number of Americans honeymooning. Incidentally, I'd heard of a few of them through business acquaintances and must meet them. Had I known sooner that you'd be coming, I'd have put them off, but it seems mother wants you to herself." With that, he kissed both women on the cheek and was off.

Martha led the way to the dining room, making sure that they were seated a ways away from the other diners in a more secluded area.

"Why do I have the feeling I'm being set up for something?" Edith asked, laughing hesitantly.

"Because you're a smart young woman," replied Martha. "What have you been doing with yourself while here, Edith?"

Edith launched into story after story of her adventures in Paris and the interesting characters she'd met, carefully avoiding any mention of her son. It pained her to do so. These last few months of motherhood had been the best of her life. She missed her family and England quite a lot, but every time Hugo smiled at her or his finger tightened around hers, she knew she'd made the right decision.

"And what of my great grandson?" demanded Martha after letting Edith go on for some time. "How is the boy?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about," Edith denied stiffly.

"Hugo, I believe Violet said the name was. The reason you've abandoned your family and upset your parents."

"Granny told you?" cried Edith. Tears began to well up in her eyes as her face pinched. Anxiety bloomed in her chest.

"No need for that Edith," sighed Martha, handing her granddaughter a napkin. "You have your mother quite worried you know and I think you are underestimating her terribly."

"You didn't tell Mama did you?" She looked to the doorway of the dining hall, as if expecting Cora to walk in the room and ambush her.

"No, if there's one thing I agree with, it's that it's not my secret to tell. In fact, I was surprised when Violet confided in me, but that should show you how strongly she feels about wanting what's best for you." In fact, she'd never expected such progressivism to come from the Dowager Countess. She'd never admit it, but Martha had a new-found respect for the old bat.

Edith quieted at that. "I know they love me, but you don't know them like I do. They wanted me to leave him behind and I couldn't do that. And in any case, I was already the disappointment. This was the best solution for everyone involved, whether they know it or not."

"Oh Edith, stop lying to yourself. I might not have lived with them like you have, but I know how stuck up and pompous the English can be. However, your mother, even after all these years away from America, is not. She loves you a great deal." Martha was shrewd and she knew that her son-in-law was a kind man who loved her daughters. Really, she doubted anyone would be upset with Edith for long. But she suspected this had more to do with her granddaughter's insecurities being perpetuated by the actions of her other granddaughter than it did with her Cora and Robert.

Edith knew this to be true, but couldn't quite wrap her head around the notion that she may be wrong, that they may forgive her. All her life she get she'd been a disappointment to them and, with Mary's words ringing in her head, she couldn't entertain the hope that she wasn't. If Edith were to confirm her suspicions that they would abandon her the moment they knew about her indiscretions, she would be devestated.

"Perhaps, but I doubt they'd forgive me this. And I have to think of Hugo, now. Not just myself."

"This is true." Martha grabbed Edith's hand before asking delicately, "Do you really want him growing up without family?"

"He's got me!" Edith tried to pull away, but Martha held on tight.

"Yes, and I'm sure you're a wonderful mother, but mothers need support just as children do. Who's supporting you?"

At this, Edith quieted. Finally, thought Martha, we're getting some where. "Edith, I know you want what's best for Hugo, but you need to also think about what's best for you. And your family needs you as much as you need them."

"Oh grandmama, that hasn't been the case for years. I'm dead weight at this point!"

"Really? So Tom won't need an ally? And what of your parents? They've already lost one child. I have zero doubt in my mind that they're fine with losing another." Martha didn't love the life her daughter lead in London, she'd never want it for herself, but she had a great deal of appreciation for the family she had developed over the last thirty years.

"I never meant to hurt them," whispered Edith. And it was true. If anything, Edith was trying to protect her family and the estate and keep them from scandal. They'd been through enough since the war, hell, since the Titanic sank that's fateful day over ten years prior.

"I know, darling," placated Martha.

"I just couldn't do it anymore. Even in that great house with so many people, I felt lonely. Michael was the only one who's ever seen me for just me. Well, not the only one, but the others are long gone now. And I was finally my own person, no comparison to Sybil or to Mary." Tears we're streaming down her face by this point. "I'm sorry," she snuffled. "I can't seem to stop. When I'm sad and even when I'm happy, I get so weepy. The doctor says it's the hormones."

"I remember when I had your mother. It was hard to find myself again, but you couldn't tell anyone that at the time. We women have to be strong."

Martha could see she'd planted the seeds of doubt in Edith's head. It wasn't the exact outcome she wanted, but she knew pushing further at this point wouldn't help, so she turned to another matter.

"How have you been affording everything? Do you need any money?" While Martha hated the sharks who went after her for her wealth, she was always happy to help family in need.

"Thank you but no." Michael's solicitor had gotten in touch recently. Edith explained to her grandmother how he gave her power of attorney and had left The Sketch to her. "For now, they don't seem to be needing anything from me. That may change, but hopefully not until Hugo's grown a bit. I'd hate to leave him if I had to travel back to London for any amount of time. When do you leave?"

"Eager to get rid of me?" joked the American. "We'll probably head to Rome next week."

"Before you do, I'd love for you to come by the flat and meet Hugo and I can give you a copy of my book."

"I'd like that," responded Martha softly. She patted her Edith's hand before letting go and turning back to her meal.

By the time the two had finished their lunch, hours had passed happily and Harold returned, giving Edith a chance to learn more about her bashful yet direct uncle.

Martha and Harold filled Edith in on what she'd missed in London, Harold professing his newfound appreciation for English cooking and Martha telling of her plan to set Lord Asgarth up, should he ever take her up on her offer. Edith was glad to hear that the family was doing well. She had felt guilty about disapppointing Rose and had sent her a card and a gift, but knew that that wasn't enough to make up for her absence. While Rose would get over it soon enough, her parents, she knew would not. So she resolved to make it up to them in the only way she could.

"You know, it would be remiss of me if I didn't take you around Paris myself. Although you've already made some acquintances, there's a large expat community here and I'd love to show you more than the tourist side of things."

"Is that so?" questioned Harold. While he knew very little of Edith, he could see a lot of his sister in her and had already taken a liking to her. And in any case, he did promise his mother to try to have a good time, so why not let his niece show them around?

"In fact, I think you might find a better business opportunity here than you would anywhere else in Europe. Paris seems the place to be these days. I've already told Grandmama about..."

And that's how Harold and his niece found themselves in a flat in Montparnasse, surrounded by people laughing gaily, drinking glasses of champagne. The smell of cigarettes and music filled the air as a man on the piano singing about falling in love tapped on the keys. Martha had begged off to let the younger generation enjoyed themselves, instead choosing to stay at the hotel with her lady's maid and a good book.

"Oh, Edie there you are!" cired a woman wearing a sleeveless black and gold dress that ended abover her knees and sparkly, matching gold headband. "And who's that handsome gentleman with you?"

"Ah Minnie, let me introduce you to my Uncle Harold." Thus began the first introduction of many. Harold was astounded at the types of people Edith now interacted with. This was very different than the pompous aristocracy back in London. Conversation about the arts and alcohol flowed in equal measure. Instead of waltzing, ladies and gentlemen were dancing at a faster pace, with their hips closer together.

While some people here knew the name Levinson, as Edith was right and there were a lot of Americans, they frankly didn't care about it. Harold was introduced to every type from the struggling female painter to the wealthy American couple with a chateau outside of the city. Everyone was mixing together; there was no class order. Really, all they cared about was a good time.

"I can see why you like it here," Harold commented to Edith in the Renault on the way home. He came away with numerous contacts, from Paris, the States, Spain, and elsewhere. Most, he knew, probably wouldn't remember him the next day, let alone when he returned home, but he endeavored to meet some throughout the week his mother and he were in town.

Edith simply smiled back, proud to show off the new community she had found for herself and glad that someone understood. Now if only Aunt Rosamund or Granny could see, but well, that would never happen. She could imagine their horrified reactions. But seeing Uncle Harold's, she couldn't help but feel a spark of hope that maybe Mama wouldn't be too scandalized.

Three days later, Martha got the chance to see for herself Edith's new life. She had a beautiful apartment in the Marais district, a kind roommate and work that kept her occupied. Her normally reticent son couldn't stop going on about the party Edith had taken him to, so clearly she had a strong group of friends as well. At this point, Martha knew Cora and Robert couldn't have wanted for more for their middle daughter, except perhaps for a husband and for her to be closer to home.

Once Martha held baby Hugo in her arms, she could truly see for herself that the sacrifices Edith was making was not in vain. Watching her granddaughter with the newborn, it was clear that Edith was more settled than she'd even been in Yorkshire. Still, she couldn't help but offer an alternative.

"You know," Martha started, "you will always have a place in the States with me. A cover story would be easy there and it will give your mother comfort to know that you aren't alone."

Edith took her time in responding, love for the old American woman growing in her chest.

"Thank you grandmama, but for now, we're not alone. We have each other."

"Yes, that's true, but I do hope you'll come to stay anyway, even if only for a bit. I think you'd like New York."

Martha hugged her granddaughter on her way out, not knowing when she'd see her next. She left Edith with one last warning. "I won't tell Cora about Hugo, but you better soon. The longer you wait, the harder it will be."

Edith gave a pained smile and held her grandmother tightly, not making any promises. Martha sighed and wished her well before taking her leave.


End file.
